


I've Seen You Before

by learningthetrees



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6463438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learningthetrees/pseuds/learningthetrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen was surprised by how unsurprised she was. It made perfect sense. Of course Matt would put the city’s safety above his own. Of course he would put the city’s love over anyone else’s. Over hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Seen You Before

**Author's Note:**

> Because I refuse to believe Karen didn't have it figured out.

Karen didn’t want to be here. There was nothing he could say that would change anything. When Matt had called, at first she didn’t even answer, but something had forced her finger to hit the button. Something — she didn’t know what — made her agree to meet him.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew she had fallen, just like dozens of other girls before her, she was sure, to his charms. She’d made excuses for him for too long, but she told herself she was done. 

So why had she answered his call? Why was she standing in the dark office now, waiting for him?

 _I’ve seen you before_.

It was the thought that had solidified in Karen’s mind as the masked Devil stood in front of her. In the few brief moments before she’d run from the warehouse, she had seen something. A recognition in the eyes just beyond the mask — and not from that night he had taken the flash drive from her.

No, this was more familiar. Not the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Someone else.

A gloved hand had brushed against her cheek, and she’d felt that before. A tingle ran down her spine, and she had felt that before, too. But she couldn’t say anything, couldn’t ask why his touch didn’t feel foreign, because he was steering her away, pushing her towards the door, telling her to go. And she was nearly out the door when she turned to look back at him.

She had stared at him — it was surely only a few seconds, but it felt longer. And Karen knew where she had felt that touch before.

Matt.

His name was on her lips, but she bit it back and turned, dashing down the hallway.

Was that why she was here now? Because she wanted to be the one to say it? How had she not realized — the unexplained cuts and bruises, the disappearances, the automatic defense of vigilante justice? Karen was surprised by how unsurprised she was. It made perfect sense. Of course Matt would put the city’s safety above his own. Of course he would put the city’s love over anyone else’s.

Over hers.

Why was she here? All she would hear was more excuses. Matt would try to tell her to stay out of it, and she would fight it, and something in his self-righteous speech about keeping her safe would sound hypocritical now, in light of what she knew.

So why didn’t she leave?

Karen glanced at her purse where it sat on the table, and that’s when she heard the door open. She turned to watch Matt enter slowly, hesitantly, as if he knew she’d been thinking about leaving. He probably did — she wouldn’t be surprised.

“Thanks for meeting me.” He sounded exhausted, broken. He dropped his cane, fiddling with a brown bag under his arm but otherwise silent.

The anger Karen had felt bubbling up under the surface dissipated with one look at his face. There was no trace of the boyish grin or sarcastic smirk. Even the way he moved was different. Stiff. Uncertain. Not what she’d expected, not after everything.

“What am I doing here, Matt?” she asked.

“I, uh…” He took a few steps towards her, opening the bag. “I have something.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want it.” It wouldn’t change anything.

But Matt wouldn’t listen. “I have something that I need you to see.” And then he paused, frozen, like he was reconsidering. And Karen expected another lie.

So when he withdrew the red mask, cradled in one hand, and held it out in front of him, Karen let out a breath. He was standing in front of her, unmasked, unguarded, telling the truth for the first time in who knows how long.

Karen’s eyes flitted across his face, trying to decipher it. It was an expression she didn’t recognize on him: fear. When he spoke, his voice was low but strong. “I’m Daredevil.”

And she didn’t need to say it, but she knew he could tell. _I know. I’ve seen you before._


End file.
